


Lips That Kiss You

by writingonpostcards



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Chirping, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: “You don’t think anyone put it together, do you?” Kent asks as soon as Jack’s got the door shut and locked.“What? That we offered to take the room with the double bed because we’re dating and not because it’s our responsibility as co-captains?”





	Lips That Kiss You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softkent (SalazarTipton)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalazarTipton/gifts).



> Written for [Bitty's Valentines](http://bittysvalentines.tumblr.com/)

“You don’t think anyone put it together, do you?” Kent asks as soon as Jack’s got the door shut and locked.

“What? That we offered to take the room with the double bed because we’re dating and not because it’s our responsibility as co-captains?”

Jack turns around to catch Kent shrug.

“I think we’re safe,” he tells Kent honestly, dumping his bag at the foot of the bed and wrapping his arms around Kent.

Kent slumps into him and wriggles his arms up between their chests. He presses his cold nose to Jack’s neck and says, “I fucking hate snow storms.”

Jack laughs and rubs his hands up and down Kent’s back. He doubts it’s doing anything through the several layers he’s wearing, but Kent kisses his neck in thanks anyway.

“I don’t mind them.”

Kent shoves him gently. “Course you don’t, you freakin Canadian.” He pulls back and sighs out. “I’m going to shower—warm up.”

“Good idea.”

Jack changes into sweatpants and a long-sleeved tee while he waits for Kent. He switches the main light off in favour of a bedside lamp then hops into the bed to warm it up for Kent. He slips into a doze, exhausted from the game and the travel and the detour when the snow came down hard enough to block the roads.

He wakes when Kent slips into bed.

“Sorry,” Kent whispers, pulling the blanket back up around them both.

“S’good. Wasn’t really asleep.”

“Good,” Kent says, before leaning in to kiss Jack.

He’s warm from the shower, slightly damp still. Jack shuffles over closer to Kent so he can put his arm around Kent’s back and hold him. Jack loves Kent’s full lips, how nice it feels to suck on them and press his tongue into them. Kent moves his hand into Jack’s hair and curls his fingers into it. It’s longer than Jack used to keep it, but he knows Kent likes it. They continue to kiss lazily, Kent parting his lips for Jack and moaning quietly. Jack hums in response. He pushes Kent’s shirt up until his palm is pressing against skin.

Kent gets a leg up over his. It would be sexy except that Kent yawns as he does it.

Jack follows suit, body responding automatically.

“I’m beat,” Kent says, yawning again. “Sorry.”

Jack shakes his head. “It’s fine. We can just go to sleep. ‘Sides,” he adds, moving his hand off Kent and smoothing his top back down, “these walls are probably thin anyway.”

Even half asleep, Kent manages to narrow his eyes at Jack. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying,” Jack whispers teasingly. “It’s a fact you’re noisy.”

“Oh really? I seem to remember _someone_ moaning loud enough to wake their billet parents. And it wasn’t me.”

“Shut up,” Jack says, kissing Kent to make sure he does.

“It’s alright,” Kent tells Jack after the moment has passed. “I like you anyway.” When he smiles warmly at Jack, Jack’s heart flips over.

“I like you too,” Jack whispers back.

Kent rolls over and moves into Jack so his back presses against Jack’s front. Jack wraps an arm around Kent’s waist and shuts his eyes, letting sleep come to him.

He wakes up some hours later, bleary, brain still half inside his dream. He doesn’t realise what’s woken him up at first. It’s still dark, and the garish clock in the room says it’s early morning. Then he notices Kent’s moving against him, rubbing his ass back onto Jack’s growing erection.

He groans and Kent stops moving.

“Awake finally?” Kent asks, looking over his shoulder at Jack.

“I thought we weren’t doing this?” Jack asks, confused but not against the notion. “Did you get any sleep?” he asks.

“A bit, yeah. But I had this dream about you and when I woke up—”

He moves Jack’s hands from his chest down to the front of his pants. He’s hard beneath Jack’s palm and blazing hot.

“At least you’ve warmed up now,” Jack says, moving his fingers lightly over the bulge.

“I’d say so,” Kent replies breathily.

“Tell me what you dreamed about,” Jack says, pressing the palm of his hand down and kissing the back of Kent’s neck. He moves his hand over the front of Kent’s pants, feeling him twitch. Jack kisses behind Kent’s ear, traces the shell of it with his tongue. “Did you dream this?”

Kent sighs out Jack’s name and moves his hips forwards into his hands. “Not-Not like this,” he gets out. “I dreamt you were fucking me.”

“Well,” Jack says, slipping his hand inside Kent’s sweats. He’s not wearing any underwear. “Maybe not today,” Jack says, mindful of the proximity of their teammates.

Kent hisses as Jack twists his hand on Kent’s dick. “This works. This really works.”

Jack continues moving his hand over Kent, kissing his neck, his jaw, his cheek. Kent’s breathing becomes harsher as he rocks forwards into Jack’s hand then back against his erection. Jack moves the collar of Kent’s top to the side to bite and suck at his shoulder.

Kent twitches beneath him. “No marks,” he reminds Jack.

“Alright,” Jack agrees, though wishes again they didn’t have to be so careful. “Kiss me then.”

Kent angles his neck and Jack leans over as much as he can so their lips meet. It’s uncomfortable for a while until Kent twists his shoulders slightly and it works. Jack swallows the sounds Kent makes as he slowly, slowly moves his hand up and down his length. He brushes a thumb over the head and Kent whimpers and shudders beneath him.

“Did you bring lube?” Jack asks.

“Yeah,” Kent says into his lips, continuing to kiss him.

“You gonna get it?” Jack asks, twisting his hand round Kent.

“N-No. Don’t want you to stop.”

Jack pulls away and Kent groans. Jack slaps his hand over Kent’s mouth. “Thin walls,” he reminds him.

“You’re a menace,” he grumbles from beneath Jack’s palm. “It’s in my fucking bathroom bag, you fucking—" Kent thrusts into empty air and groans again.

Jack laughs. “Patience,” he whispers teasingly into Kent’s ear. He sits up and moves silently to the bottom of the bed where their bags are, searching through Kent’s stuff until he finds the lube. “No condoms?” Jack checks.

Kent shakes his head. Jack throws him the lube which he doesn’t bother trying to catch. He narrows his eyes at Jack and looks down pointedly at his still hard dick sticking out from the waistband of his sweats.  Jack rolls his eyes but he reaches up to ease Kent’s pants off him so he’s properly naked from the waist down, then slips back into place beside Kent.

“You’re not doing much,” Jack says idly, reaching for the lube.

“I initiated,” Kent says. “I’m the ideas man.”

Jack rolls his eyes again. “Whatever you say.”

“And I’ve got another,” Kent adds, rolling to face Jack and reaching for his pants. Jack helps Kent get them off, then lets Kent take the lube off him.

Jack’s only half-hard, but Kent gets some lube into his palm and wraps a hand around his dick and leans in to kiss him and he starts hardening so rapidly he has to fight not to just give in and come within a minute.

“What’s the idea?” Jack asks to distract himself.

Kent’s eyes glint. “I’ll show you,” he says, moving his hand over Jack’s a few more times until he’s coated in lube. He throws the bottle away somewhere that Jack doesn’t see, he’s too busy staring at how sexy Kent is in the dim light with that look on his face that promises something good.

Kent turns around so his back is to Jack, then moves in close. He smears the leftover lube between his thighs. “Get it?” he asks, looking over his shoulder.

Jack swallows roughly and nods. “I get it,” he croaks.

Kent’s gaze softens minutely. “Good.”

Kent lifts his left leg slightly and Jack grabs his dick and positions it between Kent’s thighs, hand coming away lube-sticky. “Alright,” Jack says to Kent, who brings his thighs back together. Jack breathes out shakily.

“You gonna move, or what?” Kent taunts.

Jack wraps his lube-covered hand around Kent and jerks him hard and fast a few times for the comment.

“Shit, Zimms,” Kent gasps.

Jack grins and slows down until he’s moving in that same slow tempo as earlier. Kent sighs out heavily and reaches a hand back to clutch Jack’s ass. Jack thrusts shallowly between Kent’s thighs, focussed more on bringing Kent off. It’s quiet in the room. Jack can hear every rattle of Kent’s breathing, and the soft sound of skin on skin. He takes his time, taking pleasure from the feel of Kent in his hand. He licks up the back of Kent’s neck and buries his nose in his hair to breathe in the scent of him.

Kent whispers his name and shifts back closer to him. Jack moans and starts thrusting harder, enough to nudge against Kent’s balls each time. He tightens his grip on Kent at the same time, speeding up. Kent’s breathing gets shallower. Jack feels sweat gathering between them. He drags his teeth up Kent’s neck because he can and he wants to and he knows Kent has a thing about his neck. Kent shivers and tilts his head down toward his chest. Jack smiles and does it again, kissing along his shoulders and across his back as far as he can reach while still thrusting himself between Kent’s clenched thighs.

Kent shudders. “Close, Jack. Can you—Faster. Please.”

Jack obliges and soon, Kent’s got a hand pressed to his mouth as he comes. He looks beautiful as he does, and afterwards too—flushed and blissful.

His hand is still on Jack’s ass and he pats it playfully then digs his fingers in. “Come on. You’re close. I can tell.”

Jack grips on to Kent’s hips and speeds up.

“Should I tell you more about my dream?” Kent whispers. “How we were at your house in Montreal. Alone. Your bed is so big, Jack. So much room for me to stretch out on. And that headboard? I’m pretty sure I was gripping it so hard the wood warped beneath my hands.”

Jack pictures what he’s saying and finds himself close to the edge in a matter of seconds. Kent can obviously tell, because he laughs breathlessly and squeezes his legs together tighter for Jack.

“Kenny. Kenny.” Jack comes messily between Kent’s thighs, continuing to move through it, smearing his come over Kent as he does. He stills eventually, dick slipping out from between Kent’s thighs. He rests his forehead against Kent’s back, sticky from drying sweat, and waits until he’s caught his breath.

He kisses Kent at the top of his spine, then rolls over onto his back, feeling hot all over and exhausted again. Kent rolls onto his back beside him and flops a hand onto Jack’s chest. It’s been a while since they’ve had sex—too many away games and not enough privacy. Jack forgot how peaceful it is in the aftermath.

He shuts his eyes and smiles, moving a hand of top of Kent’s and weaving their fingers together.

“Your hand is sticky,” Kent tells him.

Jack shrugs. “You’re sticky.”

“Great joke, babe,” Kent says, but laughs anyway.

The warmth leaves Jack’s body quickly—there is a snowstorm outside, after all, and this motel isn’t winning awards for its’ utilities.

“I’ve got wet-wipes in my bag,” Kent says through a yawn.

“Okay,” Jack replies, not moving.

Kent makes a show of grumbling but he gets them out and passes one to Jack. It’s barely effective, as clean up goes, but Jack’s too blissed out to care.

“Sleep,” he says, grabbing Kent’s arm and rolling around to wrap his arms around it like an octopus.

“I’m already sleeping,” comes Kent’s reply, and within minutes, it’s true. They both are.

 


End file.
